More Than Meets the Eyes
by SharonH
Summary: Dean and Sam are still searching for their father, and along the way they help those having paranormal troubles. Someone is sent on a path that crosses theirs. Someone who can help them. Will they accept that, or will they turn it away?
1. Chapter 1

Dusty walked down the long stretch of road. She was living up to her name today as the grime from the highway seemed intent upon covering her with each gust of wind. She'd left the small Midwest town she'd grown up in three months before and hadn't looked back. She couldn't stay there anymore; not after everything that happened. Not after everything she'd lost. A truck pulled up next to her and rolled down its passenger side window.

"You need a ride honey?" the man drawled. He hoped she said yes. Pretty little thing like that might be some fun on an otherwise boring drive.

Dusty sauntered up to the window and gazed at the man from behind her dark sunglasses. "No thanks." she answered politely. "My ride's coming pretty quick here."

The man looked puzzled, but shrugged and pulled away from her. Dusty watched him drive off and smiled sardonically. Men looked at her and all of them pretty much had the same thoughts. It was natural she supposed. Her body was womanly and could have graced the cover of any magazine including Playboy. Masses of honey blonde hair tumbled down her back, and she'd had highlights of magenta liberally scattered throughout. She had a delicate and very feminine face with an almost perfect nose, just slightly crooked from being broken once, full rosebud lips, and large eyes that were the color of deep purple pansies. Her mother had always compared her looks to those of what most people considered angels would resemble. Thinking of her mother brought bittersweet memories into her head, and Dusty pushed them aside quickly. No time for that, she thought to herself.

When the black Chevy Impala pulled up beside her she smiled slightly to herself. The window rolled down and in her peripheral vision she saw a young man, approximately her age, with brown hair past his ears and chiseled features. She stopped walking and looked at them. "We normally don't do this, but did you need a ride?" he asked in a polite and educated voice.

Dusty looked at them and was glad her eyes were hidden. They were both handsome men, and it was easy to see they were siblings. The other man addressed her with a cocky smile. "We aren't psychopaths are anything. If you need a ride we can take you to the next town and drop you off."

She cocked her head to the side as if considering and then nodded. "I'd appreciate it." She answered in her husky voice. The passenger got out of the car and flipped up the seat for her to scoot behind. Dusty knew that both men admired the view of her backside as she slid into the back and placed her duffle on the seat next to her.

"I'm Dean." the driver told her. "This is my brother Sam."

"Dusty." she introduced herself.

"Well Dusty, it's a pleasure to meet you. Where are you headed to?" Dean asked.

Dusty looked out the window for a moment before answering. "Wherever the wind takes me. Don't really have a destination."

"Well, we're headed to Houston." Sam said.

"Then I guess you can drop me off in Houston." Dusty shrugged.

"Hope you don't mind Sabbath." Dean said with a grin.

Sam chimed in. "Yeah, Dean has particular music likes."

Dusty sat back in the seat and shrugged again. "I like an eclectic mix of music. Classic metal is fine by me."

Sam turned and looked at the girl in the back seat. It appeared that she had fallen asleep. She really should be more careful. Getting into a car with two men she didn't know, and then falling asleep wasn't the safest thing to do. She'd been lucky they'd happened upon her. He'd been telling the truth when he'd told Dusty that they didn't normally pick up hitchhikers. In their business they couldn't afford to have someone overhear them, and well, with their luck they'd probably pick up a psycho or a monster of some sort. But it was like they hadn't been able to pass the girl. They'd seen her walking on the side of the road and had both said the same thing simultaneously. She needs a ride.

From the back all they'd seen were curves, an old black tank top, long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, faded and grimy jeans, and beaten up boots. A duffle bag that looked heavy was hung casually on one shoulder, and she moved with grace and purpose. There was just something about the girl that called to them so they'd stopped and offered her the ride. When she'd looked at them he'd had the distinct feeling that she'd been reading them somehow. Maybe, he thought, just maybe they'd seen something in her walking alone down the highway that had reminded them of themselves. She shifted slightly and Sam realized she was still awake.

Dean and Sam looked at each and Dean shrugged slightly. "So, where you from?" Dean asked.

"Originally I'm from Houston. However I've been living in South Dakota for the past ten years." she told them.

"Oh." Dean was slightly surprised. "So you know people in Houston?"

The girl shrugged. "I did. At one point maybe." Dusty stared out the window before speaking again. "I guess I still have a few connections there."

"Family?" Sam asked.

She smiled slightly. "In a way I suppose they are. But not by bloodlines. More business or social acquaintances I suppose."

"What made you leave a nice place like South Dakota?" Dean asked wanting to know more.

Her smile faded quickly. "There was no reason left to stay." The girl removed her glasses and looked at them both. Both men were startled by her purple eyes. They'd never seen eyes that color naturally, and could tell these weren't contacts.

"Sorry, we don't mean to pry." Sam told her.

Her smile returned, and she flashed even, white teeth at them before continuing. "Pry all you want Sam. If I don't want to answer I'll tell you."

The car was silent for several minutes. Both men were beginning to become slightly uncomfortable. There was something different about this girl. Something very different. Sam was beginning to wonder if somehow they had picked up a monster after all. Maybe another doppelganger? "What do you do for a living?" Dean asked, giving Sam another look.

She relaxed back against the seat again. "I suppose you could say I was a teacher of sorts, and sometimes I worked in the entertainment industry."

Dusty almost smiled widely but stifled it. She wondered what they'd say if they truly knew what she did and what she was. She knew that these two men would definitely believe her. They wouldn't think her crazy, or think that she was just trying to get attention. No, because they'd seen and known more than most people. She had a feeling that's why she was to meet them. Now she just had to decide if she would tell them. In her heart she wasn't sure it was the best thing to do.

"So, are you visiting family in Houston?" she asked, already knowing quite well that they were not. "Or are you going for business?"

"Business." Sam answered and hoped she wouldn't ask for more information. "How old are you?"

"I'm your age." she answered. When he turned to stare at her she elaborated. "I just turned twenty-two."

Her face was somber as he stared. "How did you know how old I was?"

"Maybe it was a lucky guess." She answered thoughtfully.

They traveled in silence after that each absorbing the limited information they'd managed to get. Dusty felt guilty. She hadn't meant to make them uncomfortable or suspicious. Hopefully she would be able to stay with them long enough to pass on the information that she had for them. Then they could go their separate ways. Whether they realized it or not, these two men had formed an extremely tight unit. More than brothers, more than friends, they were true partners. Each one brought something different to the union. Yes, she would help them with what she could, and then she would take her leave. Move on to the next occurrence.

After several hours Dean finally spoke. "Is anyone else hungry?"

"Yeah." Sam sighed, coming fully awake.

"I'm starving." She admitted. Honestly she couldn't remember the last time she ate. She'd been so attuned to making sure she was in the right place at the right time so as to meet the Winchester brothers that she was pretty sure she'd missed lunch and breakfast.

"Where are we?" Sam asked rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Well, we just drove Dallas, which was a real treat let me tell you, and now we're almost to Corsicana."

"There's a great little Mexican restaurant in Corsicana." Dusty spoke. "If you like Mexican food."

"Yeah, we love it." Sam answered. Odd, he thought, I'm totally in the mood for Mexican food.

"Lead on." Dean smiled.

The trio had lunch in companionable silence. When Sam went to pay the bill Dusty stopped him. "Please allow me." She said.

"We couldn't." Dean responded.

"No, seriously. It's the least I can do considering yall are driving me to Houston." She responded logically. They watched as she took the bill and headed to the counter to pay.

"Something odd about that girl Sam." Dean murmured.

"I agree." He muttered back. She seemed almost serene. As if she had been taking a short walk along the beach when they'd found her, but there was something else in her eyes as well. Something that told him that she'd seen far more in her life than most people. "Like, how'd she know my age? She didn't say about my age, she said it matter of fact."

"You think she's one of them?" Dean asked. He looked at Dusty speculatively.

Sam shook his head in the negative. "No, not quite, but there's something odd there." They looked at the girl again and frowned. They hadn't realized that a larger man had approached her as they spoke.

"You get your ride there little girl?"

Dusty turned to find the man who'd stopped for her. She smiled slightly. "I did. Thank you."

The man wiped a hand across his mouth. "That's too bad. Would've liked the company." He practically leered.

Dusty tried to step around the man, but he moved with her. Sam and Dean must have noticed because they approached them. "You ready?" Sam asked her quietly. The man turned to look at the intruders.

"I was busy talking to the little lady son." He said rudely.

Sam smiled at the man. "Sorry about that, it's just that we have to be on our way." Dean stood quietly behind him ready to back him up.

"Well, maybe you boys outta just run along then. I can give the lady a lift." He sneered. Sam noticed the man's face turning red, and his hands clenching at his sides and got ready to take the hit.

Dusty felt the situation escalating. This was all wrong. She hadn't wanted to do this so soon. She took a deep breath and placed her hand on the large man shoulder. Her voice was low and soothing. "Fighting isn't necessary. These are my friends and they're going to make sure I get to where I'm going safely."

Almost instantly the man's hands relaxed and the red tinge of anger disappeared. "She's right." He said congenially. "I don't know what I was thinking. I mean, you boys are her friends. It was real nice meeting you all."

The man ambled away and the three walked out to the car together. Before they got inside Dean stopped abruptly. "What was that?"

"What do you mean?" she asked innocently.

"Don't give us that act. That man was ready to pound Sammy. What'd you do?"

Dusty looked at them both for one moment and then nodded. "Will you accept that I'm not all that I seem but hold no danger for you?"

The brothers looked at each other and seemed to communicate. Finally Sam turned to her. "Ok, get in." he told her and held the door open.


	2. Chapter 2

Dusty counted her blessings from the backseat. Obviously they'd decided to trust her to some extent. They knew she was different, yet they'd allowed her to continue on with them. With their experiences she knew that their nature was to destroy that which seemed supernatural. She'd known she was taking a chance when she'd performed the minor act of magic on the man in the diner. She really didn't think they'd have tried to kill her, but they might have left her behind. Dusty could feel her nerves jangling. Soon. She'd have to tell them what they needed to know soon. Should she do it now? Should she start now so that if she had to convince them there would be time?

"Where are you going to in Houston?" she asked abruptly before she could stop herself.

The two men looked at each other. "We're not quite sure. It's been awhile since we've been there. We do have an address though." Dean told her.

"Well, if you end up needing directions let me know and I'll get you straightened out." She said taking the easy way out. Stupid, she berated herself, why are you being so stupid? Tell them. Get it over with. Why are you being so worried? Dusty sighed heavily.

"Everything all right?" Sam asked turning to her.

"No." she almost pouted. "It's time for me to be honest and I don't know how it's going to sound. Well, no, that isn't true. I know exactly how it's going to sound….crazy. But it's not." She babbled.

"O—kay." Dean said and stared at girl. Maybe she was just nuts.

Dusty took a deep breath. "Sorry." She steeled herself and started. "I knew who you were when you picked me up on the side of the road. I was waiting for you." Dean pulled the car to the side of the road and peered at her through the rearview mirror. I didn't lie to you; I truly will not harm you. It isn't in my nature to harm anyone or anything."

"So who do you think we are?" Sam murmured not taking his eyes from her face.

She took time to look at each of them. "Dean and Sam Winchester, sons to John and Mary Winchester." They looked shell shocked as she spoke. "Your mother dead, your father missing. I know you're searching for him. I know that you're hunters of the supernatural. You hunt the things that are only thought to be nightmares stealing children's dreams." Dean had fully turned to look at her now. "You chase away the shades and shadows of the night. I know how many people you've helped. It is only good that you do." She reassured them.

"Are you a psychic?" Sam asked bluntly.

She continued without answering his question. "I also know all that you've lost. Both of you." She quieted and then looked at them once again. "Yes, I do have some psychic ability this is true."

"That doesn't explain the truck driver." Dean added.

She smiled at him. "No, it doesn't. I'm a witch. A practitioner of magic."

"A witch?" Sam was stumped.

"A witch. One of the few left in a very long line of powerful witches. A line that doesn't practice the black arts."

"Like those Wiccans?" Dean asked.

"No." she almost laughed. "Those that practice Wicca are of a different sort. A majority of them hold only very limited power. My line holds much more." Dusty sank back in the car seat. "I was bestowed with a quest to help you in your endeavor."

"Come again?" Dean looked to Sam as if to say to go along with the lunatic.

"You go to Houston to seek that which has been taking the lives of young men and women." She told them with a sigh. Oh well, she'd known it wouldn't be easy. "But you aren't fully prepared for this task. That's why I'm here." She could already tell they were skeptical. "I know you have doubts but I hope you'll listen." When she saw the hint of a nod from Sam she continued. "The quest came to me as I prayed before my altar. The Consort beckoned and I followed. He led me to the road where you picked me up, then led me along the path to Houston." She looked at them and saw they were paying attention. "I saw much. I saw the evil you've fought. I saw the evil you'll face. That's how I know your names and of your parents. All I wish is to help you with this task. Please allow it."

She waited for them to speak. She didn't tell them everything that the Consort had told her. Dusty didn't feel it prudent. Also, a lot of it had been personal. Sam spoke first.

"Why don't we do this." He began. "The next time we stop Dean and I will talk and then we'll let you know."

Dusty sat back in the seat. It was all she could expect from them at this time. She felt the indecision racing through them, and knew they didn't quite believe her when she spoke of her abilities. Who could blame them though? It wasn't often that people met a bona fide witch. Not saying that Wiccans weren't true witches, but not on the same level as she was. Oh Goddess, she prayed, don't let me screw this up.

"So, you said you came from a long line of witches?" Dean asked, uncharacteristically serious.

"Yes."

"Anyone burned at the stake?" he asked. Sam's head whipped around trying to see if Dean was joking.

Dusty knew he wasn't. He was actually curious. Her eyes became sad. "Unfortunately yes. Many of my family met their death because of what we are. And many of them burned at the stake." Her voice had gone low, and she finished in a whisper staring out the window. "Sometimes no matter what power one wields in the end we cannot control our own fate. We cannot save ourselves if our time to pass is upon us."

"Guess that's true enough." Dean added.

Dusty turned and stared at the back of Dean's head. "You don't believe. That's surprising considering you know that so many things are in fact a reality instead of myth."

"Look," he started in a slightly sarcastic tone. "I'm sure you think you're a witch. And I don't doubt that you follow some other religion. But an honest to god witch that has special abilities, and doesn't practice black magic? I have a feeling those are few and far between. Now, I don't know how you know our names, but this has to be a con of some sort."

"Dean…"

"No, Sammy, we pick some hitchhiking centerfold up off the side of the road and she tries to convince us she's a witch and supposed to help us? It doesn't work that way."

"How would I have known your information then?"

"Maybe you pick pocketed our wallets and returned them?" Dean threw out.

"Intriguing idea." Dusty smiled. "Perhaps at the next stop I can do more to persuade you that I speak true." With that said she leaned her head back and shut her eyes.

They woke here when they were just outside of downtown Houston. The sun was just setting and orange rays flowed through the car. "So where can we drop you off?" Dean asked. They had discussed it while she slept at their last gas stop. Whether she told the truth or not they weren't adding her to the mix.

"Take me to 317 N. Benson." she told them with some amusement. She met Dean's eyes through the rearview mirror. There was some anger present, and she deeply regretted that, but she'd been telling the truth when she'd told them they wouldn't be able to do this without her. At least to some extent.

His jaw tightened but he nodded. When they finally pulled up outside the old Victorian home the sun had fully set. It was still early evening. This was the house that Dean and Sam had been headed to before ever picking Dusty up. The two men exited the car and made their way up the brick walk. Dusty followed them not speaking. Sam stopped Dean before the front porch. "Dean, look at the salt." he muttered.

It appeared that someone had laid a circle of salt around the entire home. The two men inspected the home a little more closely and found that someone had made protective symbols all along the columns on the porch. They were pagan symbols. Dean knocked on the door.

A middle-aged woman answered. She wore black slacks and a green, short sleeved, silky blouse. Her dark brown hair was pulled to the sides with barrettes, and she wore two necklaces. One of a silver pentacle, and the other the men recognized as symbols of her coven. Her dark brown eyes were drawn, and she looked extremely tired. "Can I help you?" she asked Dean.

"Yes ma'am." he began charmingly. "We're here regarding the death of your daughter Isabelle. We're investigating some other deaths that seem to be linked and were wondering if we could ask you some questions?"

Anger flared behind her exhausted eyes. "No." she spat out. "We've answered enough questions. Get off my property!" She made to slam the door and then caught sight of Dusty. "Is she with you?" she whispered.

Dusty smiled and stepped forward with her hands outstretched. "Merry meet sister."

Her voice was stronger the second time she asked. "Is she with you?"

"Yes." Sam murmured as Dusty walked past him.

The woman began sobbing and fell into Dusty's arms. Dusty held the woman tightly to her body. "Shhhh," she soothed. "These men are here to help. You must speak with them sister."

"You came." the woman cried. "You shouldn't have. It's too dangerous. Oh, but how grateful I am that you came."

"Look at me Sara Madison." Dusty spoke softly. "They will help."

The woman finally pulled away and wiped the tears from her face. "Where are my manners? I apologize." she told Dean and Sam who still stood staring at the two women. "Please come inside."

The four made their way inside and she led them into a sunken living room. The television was on but the sound was muted. "Please sit down. I'll go get some drinks."

Dusty made her way over to a small wicker chair and sat down. She leaned back, crossed her legs, and smiled sweetly at the two men. They in turn sat down on the loveseat almost across from her. "So, are you some type of celebrity or something?" Sam asked curiously.

She was about to answer but the other woman beat her to it. "You travel with her, yet do not know who she is?" she asked incredulously.

Dusty laughed. "They are not of our kind Sara. They do not follow the Goddess." Sara Madison looked at the brothers with some astonishment. Dusty turned her gaze back on the two. "There are three esteemed positions which are held within our society. All are held by women, and there is only one woman born that can fill that role."

"Maiden, Mother, and Crone." Dean said.

"Exactly." she smiled at him. "I am Maiden, and one day I will be Mother, and then Crone."

"How did they know that you were Maiden?" Sam asked.

"When she is born that would hold that place she will bear the mark." Dusty recited. "I have a special birthmark. One day, when I wed, I shall move from Maiden to Mother."

Sara had taken a seat on the couch across from the men. "So, in a way, she is a celebrity. At least to our people." Then she sighed. "If Cerdwin wishes me to answer your questions, then so be it."

"The Goddess?" Sam asked.

"One name for her, yes, but in this instance I speak of the Maiden." Sara answered pointing at Dusty.

When the two men turned to stare at her with narrowed eyes she sighed. "My real name, although I've gone by the nickname Dusty for many years."

"So your name is Ceridwen?" Dean asked with raised eyebrows.

"Ceridwen Meriel Callaghan." she said with a small bow. That definitely raised their eyebrows. "The nickname is a long story, perhaps one day I'll tell it. Perhaps for now, you should ask your questions?"

The two turned back to Sara Madison. 


	3. Chapter 3

Dusty stared out the large window which faced onto the backyard. Maybe it didn't appear as if she was listening, but she was paying close attention as the two brothers asked Sara questions.

"Just tell us what happened, and then we'll go from there?" Sam asked gently. Yes, Dusty thought, he does seem to be the gentler of the two, yet he has steel under that velvet. For Dean it was the opposite. Any softness he held within was kept under deep cover of his hard outer shell. Two very different men. Yet both were intriguing.

Sara Madison sighed deeply and began. "My oldest daughter, Isabelle, is…was, twenty three. She was taking classes at the college to become a veterinary technician, she loved animals so much, and she worked part time for our vet Dr. Spezia. She was a beautiful girl. She was to be married in two weeks time at the festival. Anthony isn't pagan, but they were doing two separate ceremonies. One for his family with a justice of the peace, and one for her. He's a good boy. Very respectful. They've been dating since they were juniors in high school." her voice became choked and she stopped speaking. Pulling herself together, she continued. "Isabelle was on her way home from her evening class when she was taken. Anthony was already here waiting for her. When she didn't show up we called the police. They found her vehicle and knew there had been foul play. She's the fourth youth in the past six weeks to go missing after leaving the campus."

Dusty saw the look in Dean's eyes. He was wondering why they'd decided to come here. Just a random kidnapping, nothing supernatural she could almost hear his thoughts. "Sara, tell them the rest. How Isabelle was found. About the others."

Sara looked at Dusty and nodded once. "She was found within twenty four hours. She'd been tied to a stake and burned. We thought maybe religious zealots, but it's something different."

"Why do you say it's different?" Dean asked.

"Because her heart was removed without wound, and her tongue was missing." Sara stated with simple anguish.

Sam winced. Dusty spoke. "The other three were found in exactly the same manner. All four were members of the pagan community. All were to be hand fasted at the festival."

"Well, it's definitely in our line of work." Dean said quietly.

Dusty nodded. "But you will need help with this. Not only will you need me to help you speak with all of the families, but you will also need access to our history. Our lore."

"She's right." Sara said finally. "No one will speak to you without Ceridwen. And no matter how good you might be at computers, there is no way you'd be able to access all of our records."

"Some of them aren't even on computer." Dusty added. "And I know you'll need me to get access to those records." She almost smirked at Dean's expression. "My people do need your help Dean, Sam. I can only do so much."

Sara's head whipped around to look at her. "But you too are in danger Maiden. Probably more so than others."

"Why do you say that?" Dean asked.

"She's the same age as the other victims were, and she's one of our most important treasures." Sara explained. "Ceridwen's line has almost always held the positions of Maiden, Mother, and Crone. It was no shock when she was born with the mark. And now we have no Mother."

Dusty stood and walked to the back door. Here it comes she thought.

"What happened to the Mother?" Sam asked.

Dusty turned to face them. "My mother was murdered six months ago." she said abruptly, and with some finality.

"Okay." Dean said finally. "Well, obviously we need Dusty's help, and we should start thinking about where to start."

"I insist you stay here." Sara offered.

"Thank you sister, but it isn't necessary. We have a place to stay this evening." Dusty told her with a warm smile.

The three said their goodbyes and headed for the vehicle. She gave them directions, and there was silence in the car as they drove. They pulled up outside of high-rise condominiums, and Dusty showed them where to park in the underground garage. They rode in the plush elevator to the top of the building and she pulled a key out of her pocket. Dusty opened the door and motioned for the two men to enter. They did so, and she quickly locked the door behind them. They both turned to look at her as she muttered several words while placing her hand on the center of the wooden door.

When she saw them staring at her with raised eyebrows she smiled. "I have money."

Dean looked around at the spacious condo. "Apparently."

"The master bedroom is through the door to our right." she explained and pointed to double doors that were shut. She motioned to the left. Through that doorway is a hall way. There are two bedrooms and they share a bath. I'm going to shower. Make yourselves at home." She headed through the double doors and they heard the door click as it shut.

The men looked around themselves. The short foyer led down three stairs into a large open living area. A sofa, loveseat, and recliner were spaced comfortably around an entertainment center. It appeared that Dusty had nothing but the best. To the left before reaching the hallway an open area was set up as a dining room. The kitchen was attached to the dining room, with a bar area separating the two rooms. The living and dining room were done in greens and neutrals, the kitchen was mainly black and white with slashes of bold red accents. The art in the condo was stunning. Illustrations of faery, mythos, and mythical times. A curio cabinet in the living room held an assortment of crystal stones, a large crystal sphere, and a dagger collection. Another set of shelves held a book collection and there seemed to be several extremely old, but well maintained books. There were also pictures placed sporadically through the space of Dusty and others. It appeared that Dusty had been the beautiful swan from birth and on.

Sam and Dean made their way to the guest rooms and weren't surprised to find that the two rooms were just as nice as the rest of the condo. Both rooms boasted queen sized beds, dressers, chest of drawers, and a nightstand. The bathroom also surpassed their expectations with a Jacuzzi tub and a separate shower with six strategically placed shower heads. "I think when she said she had money that was a bit of an understatement." Sam murmured.

Not knowing how long they'd be staying they unpacked their few belongings and took turns showering. By the time they made their way back to the living room the double doors which led to the master bedroom were open and they could hear sounds of tinkering in the kitchen.

"Something smells good." Dean announced and they made their way to the bar.

Dusty stood at the stove stirring something in a pot. Her tumbling hair was still damp from her shower, and hung to the middle of her back. She was dressed in a gauzy, white, sleeveless shift which appeared to be made of some type of thick linen and she was barefoot. A tattoo encircled her left ankle, and it appeared to be symbols of some sort, but they weren't close enough to get a good look. She turned to face them with a smile. "Hope you guys are hungry." she said and padded over to the bar. Several old books had been laid upon the bar. "I found some of our folklore we've passed down for many generations. I also have a laptop that we can set up on the dining room table. I thought perhaps after we eat we could look through them?"

They ate at the bar, and Dusty fed them homemade stew and bread. "You're a good cook." Dean told her as she cleaned up the dishes.

"My mother taught me." she said with a soft smile. "She owned a restaurant and was the head chef. She started teaching me as soon as I could walk and talk."

"I'm sorry about your mother." Sam told her.

Dusty turned to face the two that had become so silent. "I know. Ironic isn't it? Two men that are practically strangers know more how I feel than the people that were my family and friends." She gave the counter one more swipe with the sponge and then sighed. "Loss comes to all of us. I'll lose more in my life before it's all said and done. "

"Where's your father?" he asked.

Dusty picked up the books and moved them to the large oak table that dominated the dining area. Then she began setting up her lap top computer. "My father never really understood that my mother was a true witch. When he finally figured it out I'd already been born. He didn't think I'd have to follow in her traditions. When it was found that I had the mark he couldn't handle it. He couldn't handle that marked or not, I am who I am."

"Did your mother expect you to follow her path?" Dean asked as he opened the first book.

Dusty laughed, and the sound was almost musical. "Oh no. She would never have done that. It was my choice. She made sure that I knew about other religions. She made sure that I respected all religions. I'll do the same for any children I might bear. But I'm a witch, and I embrace everything that goes along with that. It isn't always easy. In fact, it isn't easy a lot of the time, but it was my choice. I don't regret it."

The three got to work quickly. Whether he wanted to admit it or not Dean was impressed by the way she took such pride and care with her background and history. The books in front of them had to be several generations old, but they were preserved immaculately. There was nothing in the most recent book, so he went to the oldest book in the bunch. When he opened the cover he was greeted by a handwritten text in a foreign language. "Dusty. I can't read this."

She moved over to him and looked at the book he was holding. Sam was busy using the laptop. "This is my great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother's, Kathleen's diary. It's in Gaelic." she murmured. "I've not read this for many years."

"You can read Gaelic?" Sam asked looking up from the computer.

"Yes. It's been a while since I have. I should really do it more often that way I'm more fluent with it, but I tend to procrastinate." she said sheepishly. Dusty sat down and pulled the diary in front of her. They worked quietly for a time. "Well a majority of it is just a journal telling of daily activities. Kathleen was the healing woman for her coven. There are a few really interesting concoctions that I find interesting." She continued to peruse the book but they could tell she was captivated by it. "Then she starts to talk of a woman. An evil practitioner by the name of Black Helen. She was banished from their coven when it was found that she'd performed the worst of all sacrifice. The White Goat."

"The White Goat?" Sam asked. "Wait a minute, isn't that human sacrifice?"


	4. Chapter 4

Dusty looked up at Sam. "That's exactly what it is. Human sacrifice. Something we frown upon. The most evil of all rituals. Kathleen writes that five youths were murdered in all." Dusty flipped the page. "All of the victims had their hearts and tongues cut out." This got Dean's attention. "They caught her before she could kill the sixth victim."

"How'd they catch her?" Dean asked.

Dusty was silent. "Full of grace, full of light, full of purest, radiant right. She who holds the cup shall lead the way; Maiden fair by both night and day. Eternal light, eternal flame, that which calls and will remain." Dusty repeated the words in English from the old book. "It appears that the sixth victim was to be the Maiden. Somehow, Kathleen doesn't explain how, the Maiden, Kathleen's daughter Brigid, managed to call attention to Helen. They found her before she could harm Brigid."

"So," Sam began, "Either Black Helen has somehow returned, someone's trying to raise Black Helen, or someone is trying to complete the rituals to achieve whatever Helen's original goal was."

"Looks like it." Dusty murmured.

"What happened to Helen after she was banished?" Dean asked.

"She tried to bring down a storm to destroy them. It appears she almost succeeded." Dusty turned the page. "Holy Goddess." Astonishment flitted across her lovely face.

"What?"

"When she was caught, the second time, since the banishment hadn't worked they killed her." Dusty shuddered. "They tore her apart by attaching ropes to all four limbs and then attaching those ropes to horses."

"They quartered her?" Sam asked in disbelief.

"Then each body part was buried in different sections in hallowed ground, and surrounded by circles of salt and magical runes."

Dean snorted. "Well, they were certainly covering all of their bases."

"Kathleen writes that even after this was done people said they could still hear Black Helen, and some said they saw her." Dusty looked up at them, shock and distress still evident in her violet eyes. "We take pride in our peaceful ways. For my people to have gone to such violent lengths….they truly feared this woman."

Sam put a hand on her shoulder. "She sounds like an evil person. I'm sure they did what they felt was necessary."

Dusty nodded once. "We all need to get some sleep. Tomorrow our search begins. It won't be easy, and some people may not even want to speak with me, but we have to push through and get it resolved before someone else is killed." She stood and began pacing. "I don't know if the Maiden has to be the last sacrifice. If so, then at least we know that they'll come for me eventually."

"We aren't using you for bait Dusty." Sam said looking at Dean.

"Sam's right. You aren't gonna be bait." Dean agreed. "We need to decide where we're going to start looking."

"Well, we should check out the college. All of the victims were enrolled there." Sam inserted.

"And we should drive the area where they keep disappearing. See if there are any clues that have been overlooked." Dean added.

Dusty was nodding. "Yes, those are good starting points. We should also visit the elders to see if they have any more information on Black Helen. We'll also want to introduce the two of you, and let them know I've arrived for the festival."

"Elders?" Dean raised an eyebrow.

She grinned sardonically. "Oh yes, we have our own leaders Dean. I'm sure that we'll all have a lovely time." She sighed. "But they might have more ideas. Better yet, they might have more written records."

"Maybe more diaries?" Dean asked.

"Perhaps. But to get them, or any information for that matter we'll be tested I'm sure." Again she sighed.

"Tested? You're their Maiden." Sam said indignantly.

She smiled at the tone. "True, but even the Maiden has tests to pass. I might be the Maiden, but we'll be meeting with the Crone, and she's the most respected of all."

"The Crone? Wouldn't that make her…" Sam started to ask, but Dusty interrupted.

"It makes her my grandmother." Dusty said wryly.

"Great so you'll have a family reunion." Dean joked.

"I haven't seen or spoken to her in six months. She and my mother didn't get along very well, and she hated my father." Dusty moved to the windows and stared down at the lights of downtown Houston. "Grandmother took extreme pleasure in telling my mother 'I told you so' when my father finally left. My mother was a caring and lovely woman. She needed her mother's support, and instead got bitterness and anger. So, I have issues with the woman."

"Can we do this without going through her?" Dean asked quietly.

Dusty faced the two men. "No. We can't. And as much as I'd love to, I wouldn't. She is Crone, and deserving of my respect. She is also an elder." Dusty walked back to them. "I take great pride in my people and my beliefs, no matter how I might personally feel about what she did I would never insult her. Or at least I'll try real hard not to." She finished with a light smile. "Now, I'm off to bed. Sleep well."

They watched the girl walk through the double doors and shut them. Dean almost smiled as he and Sam both stood at the same instant. "Better get some sleep." He said stretching.

"Yeah, tomorrow seems like it's gonna suck." Sam said with a shake of head.

They were in the woods. It was deep night, and the air around them was silent. Not even birds or grasshoppers were chirping. A crackling sound made its way to them and they walked closer to the lone noise. A huge bonfire was aflame in the middle of a small clearing. The trees around the clearing looked ill and dry. It looked as if everything around it was dying and filled with decay and smell. Sam almost gagged from the foul odor. Dean held him back motioning for him to remain silent.

Suddenly a chanting filled the night air, and the words were harsh and guttural. Several figures moved around the fire in strange and decidedly uncomforting motions. There was no grace to the movements, no beauty to their dance. There was something obscene about the movements. An older woman moved into their view. Her body was hidden by black robes, and her face obscured by a hideous black mask of some beast. Her voice rose above the others, more harsh, more volatile. The other dancers slowed, and the two men noticed that they were unclothed. Black, thick paint marred their nakedness in strange symbols. Two of the dancers headed directly behind the robed woman, and Dean and Sam noticed a small cage, similar to a dog kennel, behind her. A man, approximately their age was screaming. He was also nude except for a white loin cloth and a white blind fold. What appeared to be red paint marred his body in similar symbols to the dancers.

They knew he was screaming, yet no sound escaped. He struggled uselessly, and they drug him to an altar set before the bonfire. The two dancers strapped the man to the wood altar. Even from the distance they were at they could see that the altar was stained by some dark substance. Where once a golden ash color, most of the structure was now a deep reddish brown. The two dancers backed away bowing to the robed woman. She stood over the subdued man with a dagger clutched in both of her hands. Her chanting grew louder and the knife started a downward movement.

Before Sam could scream and step forward and hand fell upon his shoulder. He turned and found Dean and himself standing outside of a large tent. An elderly voice called out for them to enter, and they slipped through the narrow canvas opening. Large silky cushions were arranged around the outer rim of the tent. In the center there stood a small, round, wooden table. It was deeply scarred. Upon the center of the table was an ornate crystal ball. On the other side of the ball was a small gypsy woman. She was in traditional gypsy dress wearing flamboyant colored skirts and peasant blouse. A handkerchief kept her silver hair out of her eyes. Lines etched the woman's face, and bright blue eyes twinkled at the two men. "Come in, come in." she spoke, and her voice was high pitched and ancient. "Come in for a reading."

They sat in the two chairs that were placed before the table. "How did we get here?" Sam asked bemusedly.

She laughed in her high pitched giggle. "Better here than where you were. Better here than there." She sighed as she finished laughing. "Now, who's first for a reading? The older brother, Dean? Or the younger, Sam? Such handsome men to come into my parlor."

He didn't even realize he was holding his hand out to her until it was on the table. Dean looked at his traitorous appendage with some surprise. The elderly woman picked it up. Her hand was soft, and her skin felt as though it was parchment paper, and would tear so easily. She looked at him with intelligent eyes. "I'm not so easy to bruise little boy." She smiled.

She bent to the task of studying his palm. "Ah, ah, such a hard life, such a hardship for one so young. Been through so much, done so much. Saved so many. Such a deserving boy. Ahh, ahh, look here, look here. Such a love you will have. Such a long life. Maybe not always so happy, maybe not always so calm, but long, and filled with love. Brother, father, wife." When his head shot up in surprise she giggled again. "Yes, you heard me right boy, wife. Ohhhhh, and children, little wee children. So sweet, soooo naughty." She practically cackled in amusement, and it made Sam smile. Dean almost looked sick.

The woman dropped Dean's hand and snatched up Sam's. "So similar to your brother. So much tragedy. Loss of mother, loss of love, both to the same monster." A frown marred her face, but then lightened. "Oh, so wonderful." She stared at him with soft eyes. "Another long life, same as your brother. Lots of love, brother, father, wife, and children." Sam started to protest, but she quietened him. She gently set his hand down. "Both of, good futures. Both strong men. You come to help, and you will. Do not trust all that is put in front of you. Do not trust all that your eyes show you. Have faith and you shall prevail. So much is being entrusted to you." Her face was sad. "So much innocence lost already, and another will be lost before all is done. Do not let sorrow lead you away from what stands in your future."

She turned to Dean. "You will not want to believe in the love that comes to you." Then she addressed Sam, "and you shall fear the love that comes will be lost. I do not tell you what paths to take, freedom of choice is what we are blessed with, but remember these words when you reach these paths. You can embrace the time you have and take all that it gives you, or you can turn away and sleep cold each night. Both of the women coming to each of you are strong and vital. Beautiful and full of spirit."

She leaned back in the chair. "You must wake now. There is work to be done. Be careful of your dreams in the future." Her voice had begun to fade. "You do not want to find yourself in the middle of a wasted field in front of that bonfire. Even in dreams she has tremendous power. Even in dreams she can destroy…"

The two men awoke each in their separate bedrooms. Sweat covered their bodies, and their feet were dirty as if they'd been walking in the woods. A lingering perfume filled the room with it's soft scent.


	5. Chapter 5

To their surprise when they awoke it was morning. They took turns showering once again and headed out to the living area. Dusty was working at the laptop. She was dressed in a vivid red broom skirt, and a white peasant style blouse. Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail and her entire appearance held a gypsy flavor to it. She looked up as they entered the room and she frowned. "You both look like crap." She murmured.

"Thanks." Dean smiled a bit wryly and started to fix himself a cup of coffee.

"We had weird dreams." Sam told her and took a seat at the table. She had put out a few plates with toast, bagels, and fruit, so he helped himself.

She shrugged. "New place maybe?"

"No, when Sammy says we had weird dreams, he means we both had the exact same weird dreams, as if we were both there at the same time in the same dream." Dean heaved himself into a chair.

Now they had her attention. "Really? Tell me about them." Dusty leaned back in her chair away from the computer.

"In the first part we were at some ritual. There was going to be a sacrifice. It was in a really old place. A nasty, evil, old place." Sam explained. "And in the second part…."

"Just as this bitch was about to plunge this wicked looking dagger into this guy's chest, there was a hand on our shoulders. We turned and found ourselves outside of a tent. Like a fortune telling tent." Dean took up the description. "This old woman called us into the tent and proceeded to 'read' our palms. Gave us both some happy feel good shit reading and told us to stay away from dark places."

Dusty looked at them and kept her face blank. "So, you didn't believe the woman's reading?"

Dean snorted at her but Sam shrugged. "I don't know. It would be nice if it came true, but people can't tell the future."

Dusty gave a little grin. "You'd be surprised at what some people can do."

"It's just like witchcraft. There's no real power there." Dean told her as he sipped the java in front of him. "I mean, the rituals are pretty, and for the most part the meaning behind it is nice, but unless there's a demon tint to it, where someone's sold themselves for power, it's not real."

Now Dusty was all out grinning. She leaned forward and spoke to Dean directly. "Before this is all over you're going to see things you never thought possible. There's magic out there Dean Winchester, and it's not just of the evil variety. There are beautiful, powerful things that you'll learn can only be created by good."

Dean looked into the dark purple eyes and didn't know what else to say. Everything extraordinary he'd ever seen had turned out to be something bad. "I doubt that."

Dusty leaned back again. "Doesn't matter. Eat up. We need to get going. We have an appointment with the Elders this morning."

The trio was silent in the limousine that had picked them up. It was certainly a different trip than the one they'd normally be taking in the Impala. The limo headed out of town and soon it was pulling into through a gate into the large, open driveway of an old fashioned castle-like structure.

"This is where your Grandmother lives?" Dean asked.

Dusty sighed. "Yes. This is, in fact, where all of the Elders live."

The door opened as they approached and a man in his mid forties stood in the doorway. He bowed deeply to Dusty. "My Lady." He spoke reverently.

"Jonah. It's good to see you again." Dusty spoke softly.

"After seeing you at the funeral I wasn't sure if you'd come for the festival." He murmured.

"I wouldn't miss it." She told him. "Not with all of the issues our people have been having. Let me introduce you to Dean and Sam Winchester. They're here to help us fight the evil that is plaguing us."

"They are Gadjos." Jonah said with a frown as he looked at the brothers.

"Yes, they are. And they are my friends and guests here." Dusty spoke evenly, but the man flinches slightly. "Are they prepared for us?"

"Yes. Please follow me." Jonah spoke and led the three farther into the house. The house itself was a marvel to behold. Everything was gleaming wood with antique furniture and furnishings. Jonah led them to a set of double doors and opened them quickly. He moved inside and Dusty and the men followed. "The Maiden, Ceridwen, and guests." He announced loudly.

They entered into a large room which could easily have been titled the library. Books covered each wall of the room, and the ceiling rose up at least three stories. Seven chairs sat in the middle of the room like little thrones. All but two of the chairs were filled. In the middle of the row sat a woman who appeared to be in her late fifties to early sixties. It was easy to see that this was Dusty's grandmother. There were empty chairs to her left and right. To the left past the empty chair were two men. One was approximately the same age as the grandmother, the other was middleaged, with dark hair just going gray, and dark brown eyes. On the right next to the empty chair sat two women. On was middle aged with dark hair and light eyes, and the other was incredibly old. It shocked Dean and Sam to see her because it was the woman from their dream. The woman who'd read their palms and saved them from witnessing the sacrifice.


	6. Chapter 6

Dusty lowered her head in respect to the seated people. She addressed the middle woman first. "Grandmother." The woman nodded regally to Dusty. "May I present Dean and Sam Winchester. As I'm sure you all know they are hunters, and have come to offer aid during this trying time. Dean, Sam, My grandmother, Aloisia Shaunessy; Crone of the White Gypsies, my people. The rest of these distinguished individuals are Lance DuVeaux, Marcus Shaunessy, my Grandfather, and these two ladies are Margaret Adams, and Velda Cavanaugh. They are the Council of Advisors to the Three." Dusty introduced and explained.

"Do you think it wise to bring two strangers into our sanctuary?" Aloisia Shaunessy questioned from her chair. Her eyes never wavered from Dusty's face; her expression was blank.

Dusty looked at the woman. "I do not think it unwise."

Aloisia nodded once, slowly. "Tell me."

"I had a vision…I was meditating before my altar and the Green Man came. He motioned to me to follow and led me to a road…a highway leading to Houston. He showed me the terrors being inflicted on our young adults. He showed me that the Winchesters were necessary to help stop this evil."

"The Consort came to you?" Lance DuVeaux was frowning in bemusement.

Dusty bowed again. "He did."

"You realize what this means?" Marcus asked the girl.

Neither Sam nor Dean had any idea what was going on, or what the significance of seeing the Consort was. "What's that mean?" Dean asked bluntly, forgetting he wasn't supposed to talk. All eyes turned to him, and he felt uncomfortable.

"When one sees the Consort it means they will marry within one year's time." Margaret Adams finally answered the question. "Thus meaning that Ceridwen is now bound to wed by the next festival."

Dusty's jaw was clenched. "That should not concern us at this time…"

"Oh no?" Aloisia interrupted. "Should it not? Are you involved with someone? Are you close to betrothal? I think not."

"I know my duty Grandmother." Dusty managed.

"I will accept this for now Ceridwen, but we shall see how long it is before I have to take matters into my own hands." She said softly, but not unkindly.

The elderly woman, Velda, snorted, "Nothing you're gonna need to do. Taken care of already." Now all eyes turned back to her. "Saw it I did. Saw it all." Velda sank back in her chair and smiled slyly. "Saw these two too. These two are needed here. Remembered me didn't ya?"

Sam answered. "Yes Ma'am." He murmured. "We remember. We remembered as soon as we woke up."

"Aunty, were you traveling?" Dusty asked the old woman with a soft smile.

Aloisia sighed dramatically. "You know how she is!"

Velda sniffed at Aloisia but grinned at Dusty, "Love to see, love to look. Had to look at two such strapping, handsome boys. Had to look didn't I?" The way the woman said the word look seemed to mean something to everyone.

Marcus Shaunessy was grinning at the old lady. "And what did you see Aintin?" he asked her.

Sam mouthed the word back to Dusty, who smiled slightly. "Aintin means Aunt." She murmured. "Velda is my great-great-Aunt."

Velda looked at Marcus, then Dusty, then the boys. When she spoke again her voice was serious. "Found them near her. They led me to her. Took them out before she could see; before she could know that we weren't alone. They matter these boys. They matter more than any of you know. More than they know."

"Aunty was Crone once, long ago." Dusty shared as she listened. She'd known the Winchesters were important, but she hadn't realized how important they might come to be.

Aloisia was staring at the brothers again. "You." She motioned to Dean. "Dean Winchester. Come here."

Dean felt himself moving and frowned because he wasn't sure that he was the one deciding to do it. Then he shook his head. Nonsense, no one but a demon can make you do something against your will. He approached her and she took his hand in her two. Surprisingly, both of her hands were warm and soft. She had aged well, and was a lovely woman up close as well. She spent several minutes studying his palm and then the back of his hand. Then she looked up and stared into his eyes.

Aloisia dropped his hand and gestured for Sam to come to her. He did so and she studied his hand as well, and then held his gaze with her own. When she was done she motioned for them to step back, and both men did without question. Whether she had magical power or not, the woman did command a great deal of authority.

She finally graced them with a small smile. "You've done well Ceridwen. Very well."

Dusty relaxed slightly. "We come to ask your permission to go through the records and scrolls. We ask for access to all information and for the right to question any of the White Gypsy nation."

"You shall have all of this and more…but you must follow certain rules." Aloisia nodded.

Dusty looked mildly surprised. "Of course, anything."

"You and the men will stay here at sanctuary while this investigation is ongoing. You and the men will dine with us every evening. You and the men will take part in the festivities. You will not be alone at any time without one of the Winchesters."

Dusty's jaw had clenched again. "I can take care of myself."

Aloisia's eyes softened. "No matter what problems we might have Ceridwen, never doubt that I know your abilities. But if this is who we fear it is…then you are at great risk, and you are far to valuable to me to lose."

"Because I'm Maiden?" Dusty asked hotly.

"No…because you're my grandchild."

Dusty didn't dumbstruck. She didn't know what to say. Dean watched as she struggled, then he spoke instead. "You think it's Black Helen?"

Marcus tilted his head to look at the younger man. "You've already discovered much for being here so short a time. Yes, we feel it is Helen, returned to torment the descendants of her tormentors."

"We'll follow your rules." Sam told the council. Then he looked at Dusty and Dean. "Let's go get our stuff."


	7. Chapter 7

The ride back to the condominium was silent as Dusty sat in the corner of the vehicle and stared out the window. When Dean sighed for the tenth time it drew Sam's attention away from his laptop and over to his brother. "What's your problem?"

"You told them we'd live there and follow their rules?" Dean's tone was incredulous. He couldn't believe his brother had agreed to the woman's terms so easily. "Have you lost your mind?"

"What did you expect me to do Dean? We have to look at their records. They're offering to give us everything, and there aren't any tests to pass. All we have to do is stay in their nice house for a few weeks, and take part in their festival. Couldn't get much simpler."

"You don't know that Sam. First off they're gonna be looking over our shoulders the entire time. Secondly, since when do we follow anyone's rules but our own? And this festival; what the hell do they expect us to do at this shindig? You don't even know."

"It can't be that difficult." Sam rolled his eyes. "I don't even know why you're complaining. This gives us an opportunity to check out a completely different sort of witch. I mean, seriously, let's look at the type we've met in the past…"

"We don't know that they're not the same type." Dean said hotly. "They could all be demon worshippers for all we know."

It was this sentence that brought Dusty's attention to them. "We're not demon worshippers. And the Elders are far too busy to be staring over our shoulders the entire time." She addressed Dean, but then turned to Sam, "But don't think there won't be any tests to pass. We're a people who've learned that caution is a necessity in life…as much as it goes against our natures. It helped when Aunty spoke for you. And that Grandmother accepted you both so quickly…well, that nearly borders on a miracle."

"Yeah, your Grandma…she's a different one." Dean murmured.

"Still has the ability to surprise me." Dusty said a bit dryly. "I did not mean for us to be trapped living at the Manor. I had hoped we'd be able to remain in the condo until this was resolved."

"Why do you think they want us at the Manor?" Sam asked.

Dusty shrugged. "It can't only be my protection. Something leads me to believe it was something that Aunty saw when she travelled, and something Grandmother saw when she looked at you both. Whatever she saw pleased her. Not only did she praise me, but she commanded I remain in one of your presences at all times…"

"What's the big deal with that? I mean, obviously she knows we can protect you if need be." Dean asked.

Dusty looked at him. "I don't need protection. I can protect myself. That's not what I question though. You're both Gadjos, outsiders, she's purposely putting me in your company instead of men from my own people. Now that I've seen the Consort I was sure she would start trying to pair me up with eligibles. Instead she puts me with two men who aren't eligible. It's odd."

The car was silent again. "So seeing this Consort, this Green Man guy, that means you gotta get married in the next year?" Dean asked; the tone of his voice spoke of his derision.

"Pretty much." She answered never taking her eyes off the window. "Not everyone sees the Green Man. It's supposed to be a gift; a true blessing for a successful marriage. My Mother didn't see him; my Grandmother did."

"Does he tell you who you're supposed to marry?" Sam was curious.

Dusty smiled softly, "No. Wouldn't that make life easier? It's still up to me to make the decision. And, unfortunately, my Grandmother was right…I'm not dating anyone. It doesn't matter though; I know my duty, and I will do right by my people."

Dean was shaking his head. "Seems kind of crazy, getting married because of some superstition instead of love…not that I'm that much of a believer in love or anything."

"Well, perhaps I'll be lucky, and I'll find love with the man I choose to marry." Dusty offered. "We're here. Let's pack up shall we?"


	8. Chapter 8

It didn't take long for Dusty and the Winchesters to get what they would need and head back to the Manor. Once they arrived and were settled into their rooms, they met back in the hallway. Dusty decided she would take them back to the cabins and show them where the Festival would be held.

"Some of our people live here year round," she explained as they walked out the back and down the wide patio steps. The brothers could see comfortable cottages in the distance. "They live in those cabins, and then the travelers either stay with family, or set up tents while they visit. The vendors also set up tents for their wares and displays."

People were already milling about even though it was still two weeks until the Festival. They called out greetings to Dusty, and seemed beyond pleased to see her. Several people bowed as she passed. She nodded to them. Sam and Dean received interested glances, but no one seemed hostile towards them. Dean wondered if it was because they were with Dusty.

They were almost to the center of what appeared to be where the festivities would be held when a wiry, dark haired man stepped forward. He appeared the same age as Dean and the same height as Dean and Dusty. "Ceridwen, it's been too long since we've seen you," he murmured, and his eyes were hot as they traveled over her body.

"It's true I have not been to visit in several years, Tonio," she allowed.

His eye flickered to the Winchesters and he sneered slightly, "You bring Gadjos with you? Sight seers?" He made it sound repulsive.

Before Dean or Sam could speak, Dusty spoke, "They are blessed by the Elders, Tonio. Perhaps you should not make such hasty assumptions?" She arched one elegant eyebrow in disdain and the man blushed in embarrassment. "This is Dean and Sam Winchester. They are here as honored guests. They are here to help our people."

"As if Gadjos have ever cared for our people!" he spit out.

"Whether you believe or not, is no matter. The Elders, and I, do. They were on their way to help us long before I came across them."

"I do not wish to speak of them any longer… I need to speak of you. Would you step aside and talk with me?" he asked with a slight inclination of his head.

"Unfortunately, I would not be able to do this," she informed him. "The Crone has forbid me to be anywhere out of the presence of at least one of the Winchesters at all times. One of them would have to accompany us. No matter though, whatever you have to say, can be said in front of both, or either."

Tonio clenched his teeth, "Fine. I have heard on the wind that you have seen the Green Man. I wish to know if this is the truth? If it is, then I wish to let you know that I would be honored if you would consider me as a suitor."

"It is true I have seen the Green Man. Your request is noted," she told him formally. He bowed again slightly and walked away. As soon as he was out of range she blew out a ragged breath and began cursing in a foreign language. "Wonderful!"

"I can't believe you used that lame excuse so you didn't have to be alone with that doofus," Dean smirked at her.

"You'd use any excuse not to be alone with him either, if you knew him better," she told him blandly.

"I take it you're not thrilled he's now considered a suitor?" Sam asked.

"Not really. I'm sure I'll have several by the end of Festival," she muttered. "I always seem to get the arrogant ones or the ones who need to be constantly mothered."

"Hey! There's nothing wrong with a little arrogance," Dean defended.

"No, not a little arrogance, but when the only reason a man wants you is because of your status, and because that's what he thinks he deserves? Well, that's not the man I want." Dusty's eyes went unfocused. "I don't mind a confident man, someone sure of himself, but Tonio wants me because I am Maiden… and because I am pretty. No thank you."

"Aren't there any good ones?" Sam asked softly.

"There was," she responded with a sad smile. "Once. He was a few years older than I. He was a police officer and was killed in the line of duty. His name was Gabriel."

"I'm sorry."

Dusty looked at the tall man, "Thank you, but do not be sad. Gabriel was a good man who lived a good life. His death was avenged, his murderer caught and punished. One day he will return to this world and live another life, better than the first."

"You really believe that?" Dean asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"Yes, yes I do," Dusty told him emphatically. "Come, we should head back and eat some supper. Then we'll come back out. There should be some dancing this evening, and I love to dance."


End file.
